


I Actually Saw You in Brigadoon!

by bugabooie



Category: StarKid Productions RPF, The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Cuties, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-07-10 17:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19909465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bugabooie/pseuds/bugabooie
Summary: they're just two kids trying to get some school credit in the worst ways possiblebut, some things are worth it





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mari my wife](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=mari+my+wife).



> take a shot everytime i make a reference to the "some things are worth it" line.
> 
> jk i'd never wish alcohol poisoning on any of you

He didn't want to go.

This was quite possibly the lamest way to spend an evening he could've thought of.

But nevertheless, he was there.

Paul sat on the lumpy seat of a blindingly yellow school bus, a paper and pen being lazily held in one hand. It was times like this when he had really regretted signing up for the academy classes.

As part of being in the Sycamore academy program, students were required to go to a list of events where their attendance or presence alone would support the community. So basically just a couple of family-run soccer games, art galleries, and of course, the annual Hatchetfield High musical.

He had planned on using his free pass on that one in particular. Having never seen a musical, he was sure he didn't want his theatre virginity to be taken by a couple of kids he'd never met before. Not to mention, the cast here would come out after the show and that was simply too much social anxiety for him to handle. The thought of squirming his way through the crowd(because he knew he'd be the last one out) sounded downright painful.

But the school year was almost over and no more live shows were scheduled in Hatchetfield until July. Plus, the school had offered a bus service down to the much-better school for it.

So there he sat.

When the bus came to a halt outside the school's theatre, Paul jumped slightly. After the few other students filed out of the old vehicle, he pushed himself to his feet and awkwardly walked out onto the concrete sidewalk.

The inside of the theatre wing was, as predicted, crowded. The ticketing staff outside wasn't the friendliest of faces nor personalities, so this was definitely not helping. He tried to reach out to one of the student staff members for help finding his seat but was only met with a shrug from each one. It was another reminder that he wasn't the only one who had no idea what was going on. Somehow, that comforted him.

Soon, the show began. He absolutely hated the entire thing. Brigadoon was a student-led nightmare if he'd ever seen one. There was one thing that had made it all better. One might even say it had made the experience worth it all.

Her.

As soon as she had stepped foot on stage, Paul scrambled to find the girl's name in his program. Emma Perkins. He loved it.

She had the voice of an angel, the face of a goddess. He knew she must've been cast as soon as she auditioned. How could they have compared her to anyone else? He certainly couldn't. Then he remembered one of the valid points that had held him back at first.

The cast came out after the show.

Was this a stupid idea? Yes. Would he regret it in the end? Probably. Were his hands sweaty just thinking about it? A thousand times yes. Was he going to do it anyway? Of course.

So the show ended and the cast came out, as predicted. He searched everywhere to find her. And then he found her.

She didn't want to do this.

This was quite possibly the worst way to earn her art credit. 

But nevertheless, she was there.

Emma fiddled with the hem of her skirt, just waiting to go on stage. "Bonnie Jean" they had called five minutes ago. "Fuck off" she had said in response. Her cue wasn't for another twenty minutes, so in a way, that was reasonable.

Hatchetfield High had a set of requirements to graduate, as most schools do. Mostly credits. One would need four years of English, math, and science, alongside three years of history. Then there were the points that would get you to the finish line: two years of any class in the art wing and two years of any language.

Theatre had sounded like an easy A when she spotted it on the list. All she would have to do is read some lines off a script, right?

Sometimes she really hated herself and her tendency to jump to conclusions.

Her friends from the class had convinced her to audition. Not only would it be "something to do" and "bonding time", but it would also give her a grade boost in class. God only knew how much she needed that. The grade boost, that is. Laying on the couch and ignoring people all day was something she'd quite enjoyed.

Her first instinct when stepping foot on stage was to scan the crowd as she threw out her lines. It was an awful instinct, she'd honestly admit, but when she made eye contact with a certain boy, it really showed how terrible it was. It had gotten to the point where her friend had to elbow her. She'd gotten distracted. Well shit.

She made a mental note to find him after the show and got back to it.

And, as planned, Emma stood to the side when the cast came out to meet family and friends. It wasn't like anyone was there to see her anywho. This way, it'd be easier to scope out the scene. And then she found him.

Paul did his best to casually rush over to her. They'd made eye contact so now it just appeared to be two friends meeting up. It was anything but.

Being right in front of her, Paul had two thoughts: 1) How can someone be so short? And, 2) Shit he forgot what he was going to say.

He stumbled with his words at first but eventually managed to get out a mumbled "you did great in the show!", to which Emma responded to with, "what did you say?" In both of their defenses, she had the tiniest hint of a smile appear, so neither minded the confusion much.

"Oh- uh," Paul mentally cursed himself, "I just said, um...you did a really good job up on the, uh, stage." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at her with a smile that took no effort to produce. That was new.

Emma breathed out a short laugh. She leaned against the wall on her shoulder, arms crossed. "Well thank you." Biting her lip, she stared up at him for but a second. "I'm, uh, Emma."

"Paul." He nodded.

With that being said, the air between them fell silent. Neither knew what to say, whether it be words being caught in their throat or rather they just lacked the ability to be thought of. They both desperately grabbed at straws for even just the slightest idea of how to move on.

"I haven't seen you around Hatchetfield High before." Emma started, standing up a little straighter and catching his attention once more. "You're a Sycamore kid I'm gonna guess?"

Paul nodded again as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. He did his best to look somewhat cool and put together. "Yeah."

They were like Romeo and Juliet minus the whole death thing, she hoped. The student body would quite literally murder her if they ever became "a thing". Paul noted the same thing.

But, some things are worth it.

Emma wasn't one to automatically assume a romantic relationship was brewing when she met a boy. Something about this one, Paul, felt different though. She couldn't place her finger on it. Maybe it was the way he sat up slightly every time she'd look at him from the stage, or the look he gave her when she spoke to him. She'd figure it out one day.

"I've been to Sycamore maybe...once?" Emma attempted to start up something again. "My friend, Ted, and I uh...we snuck in one day instead of going here." A small laugh escaped her at the fond memory. Paul had never had his heart leap at a simple sound before, yet here they were.

He chuckled. "Did you ever get caught?" He watched as she shook her head and attempted to remember anything of possible interest.

She shrugged. "No, not yet at least. We met a couple of people and had them help us out with the whole thing."

Paul gaped, a lightbulb going off in his head. "You're the girl Mary was talking about? Mary...Kate, I think."

"Yeah! That's one of the guys I met!" Emma brightened up whilst they started to connect their stories together.

"She's in my, uh, math class, I think. Was talking about it to her friend during a lesson and I guess I just...picked some of it up." 

Another dot connected in her head. "Mathews! You're Paul Matthews!" Emma grinned as if this were some sort of answer to the universe. "She was telling me about you at some point, no idea when though."

His eyebrows raised in surprise. "She was talking about me?" 

She nodded. "I hear you're pretty boring."

Cheeks flushing, Paul tried to come up with some response to that. Witty or dumb, it didn't matter. Though apparently, he took too long, which was a notification he received through the sound of another soft laugh. Again, it was worth it.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding." Emma bit her lip and scanned his face. "You have an email?"

He perked up. "Yeah! Uh- do you have a...pen or something?"

She gestured to the paper, pen, and program in his hand. "I think you got this one covered."

They quickly exchanged contact information, mainly just emails since neither of their parents had blessed them with the privilege of a flip phone yet. By now, the theatre lobby was starting to empty. Paul noticed the bus outside beginning to load kids onto it and sighed. He turned back to her. "Um...talk later?"

Emma waved her scrap of paper with teenage boy handwriting on it in the air. "I'm looking forward to it."

With an exchange of goodbyes, Paul ran off to secure his seat on the bus. He quickly grabbed the first seat he could, which just so happened to be beside the teacher.

"You look happy. Enjoy the show?" She asked, scanning him up and down.

He nodded. "I, uh, guess you could say that."


	2. the reason why

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> paul's been visiting beanies for a few months, but realization is just now setting in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this wasn't originally going to get another chapter but i just??? love them??? so much???
> 
> —> not spell checked but was put through a grammar checker bc im extra but not that extra

"Oh, yeah…"

Paul stood at the coffee shop counter, doing his very best to appeal to the woman in front of him. For months now, he'd been coming into Beanies, which was a whole block away from CCRP might he mention, just to see her. Every day he'd go, and every day she'd still never notice him.

But today was different. Today, when he told her he wasn't tipping for a song but rather just because people should tip, she'd unleashed all her frustrations onto him. Not in a negative way where she blamed him for all her problems. Not in the way that makes people run out the front door. Instead, she simply vented to him, and her seeing him not have any discomfort with this, kept it going till they had formed a conversation of their own.

Paul had been intrigued by her the second he laid eyes on her mere months ago. Whether it was the slight messiness of her handwriting or the way she smiled(not a customer service smile, but a real and genuine smile), something about her had always left him in awe. However, he would say that she did look familiar. In the same way one might glance at a person and recognize them years later.

"I don't like musicals." The plainly worded statement earned him a polite nod and smile from the barista. He felt the need to defend the phobia, but she started speaking again before he could say anything.

"Any reason why?" She inquired as her eyes trained on the cup of black coffee she was pouring. Through the stress and conversation, she had nearly forgotten about the order up until now.

Paul mused over the question for some time. He'd never really thought of a reason why. He always just knew he didn't like them. Then, like a meteor to a theatre, the answer hit him.

"Oh, uh, when I was in high school, I went to see a show? After it ended, I guess I got this...crush on one of the actresses. It never really worked out though. I guess I was a little…"

"Sensitive?" Emma finished the sentence for him. Oddly enough, that was the exact word he was looking for. He nodded and she laughed softly. "Well, we've all been there before."

She handed him his drink, which was paired with his favorite handwriting on the cup. "Someone must have to be really special to make you hate an entire entertainment genre. You remember anything about them?"

They both knew the question was more of a joke, though as Paul began to connect the pieces, he realized what was going on. Maybe, if he played his cards right, this could play out in his favor. He slowly nodded.

"A little. She, uh, had lighter brown hair, brown eyes I think. A little on the shorter side." A little voice in his head was telling him that he was indeed not doing this right. He looked at her once more. Yeah. That was all the motivation he needed to keep going.

"She was in Brigadoon, I think." That would've had to give it away…right?

Emma's eyes widened. "Hey, I was in Brigadoon! Was it...2003?"

From the breakroom, Zoey was giving Emma a look of confusion. Either Emma was a great actor and starting to up her game, or she was truly having a good conversation with someone. No matter which one, it was strange and unusual from Zoey's view.

A smile spread onto Paul's face. "Yeah, that's the one! It was the first musical I ever saw. I hated–" he glanced at her, "the bus ride there."

Emma let the information process in her head. Suddenly, she gaped. "Holy shit. Did you have a crush on me, Mr. Matthews?" She jokingly teased, batting her eyelashes in a similar manner. That look alone made him swoon somehow.

"I- I mean- No, of course, no- Well, may-"

A laugh escaped the barista before he could get a full sentence out. "It was a joke, Paul. Maybe you should lay off the caffeine? It might be messing you up."

Paul was quick to shake his head in refusal. "No! No, no, I'm ok. It's probably something else." Yeah, like the cute barista in front of him.

Emma's smile reappeared. She tried to think of some other way to keep the ball rolling. That being said, she made a mental note to bring that up again if whatever between them went any further. "So, if you don't like musicals, why do you come to the singing coffee shop? You know there's a Starbucks across the street, right?"

All Paul could do was a shrug. "Well, some things are worth it."

Emma's face scrunched up in confusion, though her happy appearance never faltered. Nevertheless, he carried on, taking a sip of his coffee to hide his growing redness. "Like, damn good coffee." 

Once more, Emma laughed softly. She knew their coffee was shit, but she wasn't in a bad enough mood to mention it. Not now anyway. Tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, she sighed. "You're a regular, right? I'll see you in here tomorrow?"

He nodded.

"Well then. I'll see you tomorrow, Paul."

They exchanged goodbyes and she gave him a scout's salute as he walked out the door. A content sigh fell from her lips as she watched him leave her line of vision. From beside her, a now-present Nora snapped her fingers.

"Emma? Earth to Emma?" Nora rolled her eyes, retreating to begin her own shift at the cash register. "Get over the coffeé hotté and get back to work, will you? We have a line."

Emma blinked twice and snapped out of her daze. The could-have-been high school sweetheart would have to wait for now.

But, damn did she have some major regrets now.


End file.
